


Hell to the Liars

by Paraphfernalia



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Teen Titans (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, M/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-05-25 19:38:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 15,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14984153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Paraphfernalia/pseuds/Paraphfernalia
Summary: A collection of (mostly Marvel) drabbles spurred on by your prompts.





	1. Prompt List

**Author's Note:**

> I have massive amounts of creativity needing an outlet (and God forbid I update any of my current stories, amirite), so I thought this would get me going and simultaneously scratch that itch. Comment a number/numbers, whether you want the prompts together or separate, and for which characters. If there are any other details you want added in, please shout 'em out! Please specify if you want fluff or smut - if you don't, I'll go where the wind takes me~ I'll mark smut chapters with a lil * so you know.
> 
> Shameless plug here for how much of a Winter Witch fan I am (hi, nice to meet you), but please suggest anything! I'll write damn near anything if prompted, which will only help to stretch the boundaries of my mind, or some other bullshit.
> 
> If a prompt has already been written, feel free to ask again with a different character/pairing/idea!
> 
> Edited to add: completely platonic requests are also very welcome! Just let me know in your request! :)

1) “Here, let me see.”  
2) “Don’t look down.”  
3) “I’m sorry I yelled at you…”  
4) “Will you just hold still?”  
5) “This isn’t just about you…”  
6) “What’s that behind your back?”  
7) “When you’re happy, I’m happy.”  
8) “I wish this moment could last forever…”  
9) “I think I twisted my ankle…”  
10) "Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?”  
11) "Look into my eyes, what do you see?”  
12) “Of course you’d believe that…”  
13) “Shhh, they’ll hear us.”  
14) “It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches…”  
15) “Remember when you used to care?”  
16) "Why didn’t you text me back?”  
17) “Will you just tell me the truth?”  
18) “You’re too damn cute.”  
19) “Why are you laughing?”  
20) “That stuff can’t be good for you!”  
21) “This will only take a second…”  
22) “Don’t look at me like that!”  
23) “You think you could do better?”  
24) “You’ve been so selfish lately!”  
25) “Anything but that!”  
26) “Why did you think that was a good idea?”  
27) “Stop it, you’re embarrassing me.”  
28) “Your eyes are red… Were you crying?”  
29) “We’re running low on time here.”  
30) “You’ve got something on your cheek.”  
31) “If I could just get you to understand…”  
32) “Don’t move, it’ll be okay.”  
33) “Hey, don’t raise your voice at me!”  
34) “Let’s take a deep breath…”  
35) “Come on, it wasn’t that bad.”  
36) “You call that music?”  
37) “You can’t have it both ways.”  
38) “I’ve made a huge mistake…”  
39) “Don’t worry about it. Everyone screws up.”  
40) “You can’t do that!”  
41) “I’m not bothering you, am I?”  
42) “I didn’t know you could do that.”  
43) “It wasn’t your fault.”  
44) “You love me as if I deserve you.”  
45) “This isn’t what it looks like.”  
46) “I really wish you’d told me your mother was in town.”  
47) “I just came to say goodbye.”  
48) “There’s only one bed.”  
49) “You don’t remember last night at all, do you?”  
50) “You’re wrong and I’ll prove it.”  
51) “You’re a genius with facts, but you’re really stupid with people.”  
52) “I made the mistake of thinking ‘This can’t get weirder.’ Sorry.”  
53) “We’re in love with the same person. Friendships have been built on less common ground.”  
54) “I know what I want, when I want it. So get over here.”  
55) “This is… exactly what it looks like.”  
56) “There’s so much blood.”  
57) “You should see me in my old uniform. I’m pretty sure it still fits.”  
58) “I hate everything about Christmas except…”  
59) “We bet and you lost, so you have to do it.”  
60) “Is that a tattoo?”  
61) “That is way too expensive.”  
62) “I never imagined myself in a wedding dress.”  
63) “I was scared and I ran.”  
64) “I’m yours, in every way you’ll have me.”  
65) “You might not like me, but you definitely want me.”  
66) “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”  
67) “I love you. I just love her more.”  
68) “If I die, I’m going to haunt you.”  
69) “I didn’t say “sex party” as in orgy. I said “hex party” as in witches.”  
70) “You wanted me to walk in on you.”  
71) “This is a totally inappropriate soundtrack.”  
72) “Hold my hand until it’s over?”  
73) “If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time.”  
74) “I don’t want to have a baby.”  
75) “Are you kidding me? We’re not ‘fine’!  
76) You’ve only heard his side of the story. You never asked for mine.”  
77) Well, this is where I live.”  
78) “For some reason I’m attracted to you.”  
79) “I am not losing you again.”  
80) “All I wanted was your honesty.”  
81) “Why do you keep pushing me away?”  
82) “I can’t explain right now, but I need you to trust me.”  
83) “I’ve never felt this way before….and it scares the shit out of me.”  
84) “Don’t fucking touch me!”  
85) “Wait a second are you jealous?”  
86) “I wish I could hate you.”  
87) “Come over here and make me.”  
88) “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”  
89) “I thought you were dead.”  
90) “This isn’t just about you. It’s about what’s best for all of us.”  
91) “I love you, you asshole.”  
92) “You did this for me?”  
93) “You can’t protect me.”  
94) “You know I wouldn’t do this if I had any other choice.”  
95) “The way you flirt is shameful.”  
96) “I waited and waited, but you never came back.”  
97) “You never told me you had a fucking twin.”  
98) “I want to go back to before….”  
99) “Go then, leave! See if I care!”  
100) “Why are you up so early?”  
101) Please, take me instead!”  
102) "Have you lost your damn mind?!”  
103) “Please don’t argue. You have to leave right now, you aren’t safe here.”  
104) “I’m your daughter.”  
105) "i’m not surprised that you murdered him.”  
106) “Is there a special reason, as to why you’re wearing my shirt?”  
107) “Am I supposed to be scared of you?”  
108) “Is that what you’re doing? Trying to make me to hate you?”  
109) "I’m not happy here.”  
110) “You’re hiding something from me.”  
111) “I want my best friend back.”  
112) “A wedding?”  
113) "I just want to be alone right now.”  
114) “Don’t you dare to ever do that again!”  
115) “If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me!”  
116) “Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy.”  
117) “I came here to explain what happened, and I’m not leaving until you listen.”  
118) "I made a mistake.”  
119) “H-How long have you been standing there?”  
120) “I wasn’t going to wait around for you forever.”  
121) “I’ve moved on.”  
122) “Run, and don’t ever look back.”  
123) “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”  
124) “Please, don’t give up on me.”  
125) “When are you going to realize that I don’t care?”  
126) “Fuck…I feel I’ve been hit by a car.”  
127) “Those things you said yesterday… Did you mean them?”  
128) “I know that you have reached a decision, but given that it is a stupid ass decision I have elected to ignore it”  
129) “I’m tired of being your secret.”  
130) “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!”  
131) “Are you drunk?”  
132) “My parents asked about you.”  
133) “Do you need me to get anything from the store?”  
134) “There’s no getting out of this. You ruined me”  
135) “If you don’t want to talk about what happened, then say so. Don’t just lie and say it’s fine.”  
136) “Don’t say you love me.”  
137) "Tell me what I can do to help."  
138) "Don't say another word."  
139) "Maybe we shouldn't..."  
140) "Don't make me regret this."  
141) "I need to ask you a favor."  
142) "Why don't you just sit there and look pretty?"  
143) "You've got enough to worry about."  
144) "I wanna hear you say it."  
145) "Why can't you just let it go?"  
146) "How did you know where to find me?"  
147) "Are you sure that's a decision you want to make?"  
148) "I'm sick of being useless."  
149) "Just breathe, okay?"  
150) "I warned you. Everybody warned you."

dude ask me literally anything, like spit in my inbox and i'll prob write something for you.


	2. 6, 44 - [Wanda/Bucky]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For nevrmoravnO26
> 
> "You're a winterwitch fan too? That's good! My small suggestion, winterwitch #6 and #44? I feel this could be fluff. Like Barnes's bday, and Wanda made him like a photo album of memories for the '30s as well as the now and their time together? Sorry, I rambled. :( Just whatever sails this ship"
> 
> 6) "What's that behind your back?"  
> 44) "You love me as if I deserve you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "I'm gonna write some short drabbles."  
> *makes first one way too long*
> 
> Somebody got a lil bit carried away! I hope you enjoy and also god I set the bar way too high for myself so sorry if others are shorter but like... The ship sailed.

Birthdays were something that neither of them particularly cared for. Hers was a constantly reminder of the half she’d lost, and his was another measure of time in which he still wasn’t  _ fixed _ . He was working on it; they both were working on  _ it _ . Neither of them were entirely whole, and neither of them entirely cared. They understood one another on a level that others couldn’t, so no one seemed that surprised when they started spending time together. Alone, but together.

It started with complete silence. He had wandered into the shared rec room while she was laying on the couch, idly flipping through a book Natasha lent to her. She wasn’t very invested in the storyline, but it gave her something to do and somewhere to be. She assumed that Bucky would leave when he found the room occupied, but he only glanced over towards her and then settled into one of the recliners, legs over one of the arms and head resting against the other, holding up a tablet and scrolling through whatever was on the screen.

Neither of them said a word to the other, not until Wanda’s eyelids grew heavy, and she pushed herself off of the couch with a sigh, a stray scrap of paper marking her place in her book. “Goodnight,” she told him simply, and just as she reached the doorway, she heard a quiet ‘night’ in response.

Their days were spent very much the same: sitting in silence in one another’s presence, until it progressed to short conversations. What was she reading? Whose turn was it to cook dinner that night, and if it was Sam’s, would Wanda please switch with him before he gave them all food poisoning?

She had a bad day once, the kind where she couldn’t make herself get out of bed. Steve had text her, after he’d knocked on her door right before lunch to ask if she was hungry, but she didn’t get out of bed to answer him. She replied to his message, told him it was a migraine, and he gave her his well wishes and made her promise to tell him if she needed anything. She stared at the ceiling and watched as the shadows from the sun outside drew shapes and figures across her room, until the sun set and everything was bathed in darkness again.

There was another knock on her door, quiet, but firm. She turned her head and looked towards the small amount of light peeking in from underneath the wood, but didn’t otherwise move.

“It’s me.” Bucky’s voice came through the wood. She didn’t move for several moments, but from the shadow of his shoes underneath the edge of the door, she realized that he didn’t, either. Wanda had pulled herself out of bed, wrapping the material of her comforter around her to bring it to the door, opening it just a crack. She probably looked as empty as she felt, but his facial expression was unreadable. “Here.”

Wanda looked down and found a plate in his hand, with what she could only assume to be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich sitting on top of it. “’m not hungry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t care.” Bucky continued to stand there, unwavering in his presence and his gaze, until she slowly opened the door a little wider so that she could reach out and take the plate from him.

“Thank you,” she said quietly, and he nodded, just once, almost imperceptibly, and turned to leave. “Will you sit with me for a few minutes?” She didn’t know why she asked, only knew that she was relieved when he didn’t even hesitate, but followed her back into the safety of her bedroom. Not another word was spoken between them, while she sat and nibbled on the sandwich he’d made (creamy peanut butter and strawberry jelly, neither of them her favorite). He sat beside her on her bed, keeping a respectable distance between them, but he was there, and that was enough. Wanda didn’t know how long he stayed, but he was gone in the morning when she woke up.

Days stretched on into weeks, into months. Sometimes they sparred in the training rooms, where he taught her better footwork, how to protect her thumb when throwing a punch, how to use her small stature to her advantage. Sometimes they would venture into town, either alone or at the urging of one of the other Avengers to join them, but even if others were with them, he always sat by her. Other days, they would go for walks on the grounds outside of the compound. Occasionally she would pack them a lunch, and they’d sit under the shade of a tall oak tree (always the same oak tree). She couldn’t remember when he started smiling so much, and he couldn’t recall a time where she didn’t laugh at one of his lame jokes.

So when Steve let it slip that Bucky’s birthday was approaching, she decided that she wanted to do something that maybe would make the day a tiny bit better – maybe he’d associate it with something good. They talked about their past lives a time or two on their ventures outside of the compound, normally about things before Hydra, before their wars. She wanted to wipe the smirk off of Steve’s face when she asked if he had any pictures from that time, but he agreed to help her right before she told him off.

It was harder than she thought to find the time to put everything together. Wanda hadn’t realized she spent so much time with Bucky, that it was damn near impossible to keep such a project a secret from him. Still, whether it was in the early morning hours or when she wished him goodnight and returned to her room, she worked to arrange the photographs and other memorabilia into the album Natasha brought her (Wanda hadn’t even asked, the assassin just showed up with it tucked under her arm and handed it over without so much as another word).

On the day of his birthday, she’d managed to get him to agree to dinner. They ate dinner together often, but he was clearly avoiding people considering what the date was, but she promised him it would be just the two of them, and she wouldn’t let the others try to throw him some sort of party. Jumping out from behind furniture and shouting ‘ _ surprise!’ _ at the Winter Soldier seemed like a terrible idea, but Wanda still had to talk the others out of it.

She scrambled to glue down some pictures in place. There was nothing like working until the last possible moment to set her on edge. Wanda had just closed the book and picked it up when she heard the creak of her door behind her, which had been cracked open – her own oversight. They no longer knocked, not if the door was open, and she cursed that fact in the moment. She shifted the book behind her and turned around to face him. “You’re a little bit early.”

“ **What’s that behind your back** ?” Bucky asked, ignoring her words and taking a few steps closer. There were never any secrets between them, and she wouldn’t lie to him now, not even a little one that was harmless.

Wanda pressed her lips together in a small, sheepish smile at being caught. “I made you something for your birthday. But I haven’t had a chance to wrap it, yet.”

“You made me something?” He repeated, frowning a little bit and closing the rest of the space between them. “Can I see it?” He asked, holding out his palm towards her, and she couldn’t deny him anything.

Slowly, she shifted the weight of the album from behind her back to the front of her, holding it in both of her hands to offer it to him. “It’s nothing very exciting, but I thought maybe it would bring back some good memories.” He took the book from her, propping the spine of it in the crook of his elbow, and flipping it open to the first page. She stepped closer to him, to his side, a little in his personal space, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There was a photo album of Sarah’s and some other items that… that were stowed away after Steve went into the ice.” It was Howard Stark who cleared Steve’s tiny Brooklyn apartment of his few personal belongings, but she felt it best not to mention his name. “You still have that same shit-eating grin when you do something you know you shouldn’t,” she told him as she pointed to one of the pictures, a faded and dog-eared photo of Steve and Bucky in their early teenage years. Steve was holding up two fingers behind Bucky’s head, even though he had to stretch his arm and stand on his toes in order to do so.

Bucky turned to the next page, a soft rush of air through his nose an indication of his amusement. “Three time welterweight boxing champion, have I ever told you that?” He asked, looking up from the picture of him, winning his second championship, gloved hand raised in the air.

Wanda smiled, trying to pay no mind to their close proximity. “I think you’ve mentioned it once or twice.”

He flipped through a few more pages, filled with the limited pictures he had from his childhood and his teenage years. There were a few of him in his army fatigues, the first one with a much shorter and thinner Steve Rogers standing by his side, the day that Bucky was to leave for training. There were pictures with the Howling Commandos, in one of them he was laughing uproariously, and he remembered that Jim Morita had just been turned down by a dame he’d been eying the entire evening. He came to the end of those pictures, and expected when he turned the page that the next one would be blank.

But it wasn’t.

There was a picture of the entire group at one of Stark’s infamous celebrations. He remembered that Wanda had taken his hand and pulled him in with the others that were posing for a photo, and his face was turned to look at her, not at the camera. The next picture was in the very rec room where they’d first started their odd companionship, Bucky sitting on the end of the couch, mindlessly watching something on TV while Wanda stretched out across the cushions, her head resting in his lap and a book held in her hands. Sam had snapped the picture and declared it ‘so cute he was going to be sick’, and Wanda threw a pillow at him, but Bucky remembered that she was smiling.

The photos went on and on, many of them pictures that he didn’t know had been taken – of them under the shade of their oak tree, grinning at one another, or Wanda sitting on the kitchen counter, watching as Bucky tried to prove that he could successfully flip a pancake by tossing it into the air, her eyes shining with mirth. There were dozens of pictures, and in all of them, she was with him, and he was happy.

Bucky looked up from the book, turning his face towards hers, and that damn hopeful expression she wore. It twisted something in his chest, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “ **You love me as if I deserve you** ,” he said quietly, watching as her eyes widened a fraction, before looking back down towards the book in his hands.

“I do.”  _ Love you. _ Wanda steeled her nerves, and looked up towards him again. “And you do.” _ Deserve it. _

Bucky closed the photo book with a muted  _ thump _ , lifting his other hand to cup her cheek, and without hesitation for perhaps the first time since he’d been back, he leaned in to kiss her. There was a quiet intake of breath from her, but she kissed him back without needing another second to think on it, lifting her hand to rest her fingers around his wrist, just holding his palm there for a few moments longer. He pulled back from her, only enough that he could watch her eyes slowly open, lips parted, cheeks flushed.

“It took you long enough,” Wanda said quietly, the corners of her lips quirking upwards just a little. In one swift movement, he set the album down on the corner of the desk, and lifted his other hand to the back of her neck, tangling his fingers in her hair and silencing her comment with his lips. Her own fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, and she pulled back, her breath skimming his neck. “Happy birthday, James.”


	3. 13, 26, 29 - [Wanda & Natasha]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Jp:
> 
> 13) "Shh, they'll hear us."  
> 26) "Why did you think that was a good idea?"  
> 29) "We're running low on time here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This wound up a lil more platonic than I intended, so read it as you'd like! <3 These two are giving me life right now.

Wanda really wasn’t sure what to expect when she agreed to join the Avengers, but she had nowhere else to go, and she sure as hell had some things to avenge. She was angry, she was stubborn, and she was a loose cannon, as far as Natasha was concerned.

“ **Shh, they’ll hear us** ,” she chided Wanda, who breathed out a sigh through a clenched jaw and tossed a glare in the other woman’s direction, but otherwise didn’t offer up a response. Wanda closed her eyes again, this time refraining from mumbling to herself, even though all she  _ really _ wanted to do was curse the Black Widow under her breath. “What do you see?”

“I thought we weren’t talking,” Wanda cracked open one eye, just enough to see Natasha smirk at her and then went back to work. Wanda was kneeling behind a palette of shrink-wrapped materials of some kind, palms pressed against the concrete wall in front of her. Natasha sat next to her, back against the wall, with one leg propped up and the other stretched out straight. She almost looked bored, which only made Wanda’s blood boil all that much more. “There are a group of them.”

“How many?”

Wanda furrowed her brow, trying to pick through the difference streams of thought and differentiate them from one another.

“Come on, concentrate.”

Natasha wasn’t even looking at her when Wanda lowered her hands into her lap. “What do you think I’m doing?” She snapped.

“You’re not always going to have the luxury of nothing going on around you when you’re trying to work. We have the element of surprise and a secured area right now, but you need to be able to focus even when there are distractions.”

“ _ Я ненавижу тебя.” I hate you. _

“You know that I’m Russian, right?” Natasha rolled her head to the side to look at her, but from the smirk on Wanda’s face, she already knew the answer to her question.

Wanda took another breath, closing her eyes and concentrating on what was on the other side of the concrete. Natasha was quiet, whether because she had given up her plight or because she was just bored out of her skull, Wanda wasn’t sure. “There are four. Two of them are talking about the device. One of them is playing games on her phone,” she huffed a quiet laugh at that. “The other one…” Whether he was reliving a memory or generating a fantasy he  _ wanted _ to happen, she wasn’t sure without delving a little deeper, but she really didn’t want to find out. “Gross.”

“Yeah, I used to think reading minds would be pretty cool, but I also read somewhere that men think about sex once every seven seconds. That’s enough to drive anyone to insanity.” Natasha pushed herself up to stand in one fluid motion.

“Wait, I think I can deactivate it from here,” Wanda looked up towards her briefly.

“That’s not part of the plan, Witch.” There was a level of warning in her tone, but Wanda ignored it. She concentrated on the tendrils of scarlet that twisted across her fingertips and through the wall before her. She’d never been able to do something like this without a visual, but she also hadn’t been able to discern conscious thought in a group of people as well as she just had. She was improving, and she knew that she could live up to whatever ridiculous standards Natasha held, if she could just  _ show _ her –

“What the fuck?” Came a muffled voice from inside the room. The metal door to their side burst open, one of the men poking his head around the corner. “Hey – get out here!” He raised the gun at his side, and Wanda squeezed her eyes shut against her better judgment, even though she knew that the shot would never hit her.

“ **Why did you think that was a good idea** ?” Natasha snapped, reaching out to take Wanda’s arm and haul her to her feet. When she opened her eyes, they were in the training room at the Avenger’s compound, Friday disabling the holograms and projections once there was a threat of failure on any of their parts.

“I thought I could do it,” she pulled her arm from Natasha’s grasp, tapping some of the controls on the device at her wrist while she turned to leave.

“Uh, we’re not done with training,” Natasha reached out for her arm again, pulling her to a stop and turning Wanda to face her. “What the hell were you thinking? We  _ plan _ for missions; sometimes we spend weeks, even months gathering intel. I don’t care if you  _ think _ you can do it, there’s a reason for a plan: so you don’t fuck it up.”

Wanda wrenched her arm back again, eyes narrowed. “Then how do I get better? What is training for, if I am not allowed to actually  _ train _ ?”

“You follow instructions and you do what you’re told. We’re not looking for you to be a hero; we’re a team, and we work together. If you want to try and redeem yourself by acting like you’re invincible—“

“What the fuck is your problem?” Wanda rounded on her, head tilted a little. Her expression was furious, but there was also a need to understand in her gaze. “I wasn’t trying to be a hero, I was trying to  _ help _ . Look, I get that you don’t trust me, and I know that you sure as hell don’t like me. But I’m  _ trying _ . I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve paid dearly for them.” Her shoulders sunk a little as the emotion seeped out of her. “I owe Steve a debt for giving me a chance. I owe… I owe a debt to a lot of people.”

“You have a lot of red in your ledger, I get it,” Natasha sighed. Wanda frowned, the expression on her face now confused more than anything. “It’s a… it’s not important. Wanda,  **we’re running low on time here.”**

“What do you mean?” She looked around them, at the empty training room.

“I don’t mean  _ here _ .” Natasha actually shook her head a bit in amused disbelief. “Banner and Thor are MIA, Clint is retired, and the world doesn’t seem to be pumping out bad guys any slower, no offense.” She gestured to Wanda, who rolled her eyes with a quiet scoff, turning again to leave. Clearly this was a waste of her time.

“What I  _ mean _ is,” Natasha said a little bit louder, waiting for Wanda to turn back and look at her, “we need you. And Sam and Vision. And, again, no offense, but one of them is an experienced paratrooper and the other one’s an indestructible robot-human… thing that shoots lasers. You…” Natasha sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You have a lot of potential, and I push you because you need to be pushed. But you also need to understand what else is at stake, here.”

“I understand what is at stake,” Wanda enunciated her words, jaw clenched.

Natasha resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Trust me, I’d let you get yourself killed if it didn’t also include probably getting the rest of us killed in the process.” That might not have been the best thing to say, and although the Black Widow prided herself on being emotionally detached from anything that she could, she felt  _ something _ when Wanda looked away from her. She was rethinking her decision to come to America, it was written all over her face, but she had nowhere else to go – and this was how she was being treated. But Natasha was just as stubborn and just as angry, and sure as hell wasn’t going to coddle her.

“I’m done training for today,” Wanda told her evenly, turning away to walk towards the exit, stripping the device off of her wrist and tossing it onto the monitoring desk in the corner.

“Alright, see you at the same time tomorrow,” Natasha called after her, only letting herself release a quite breath once the door was completely closed. Tomorrow was going to be a riot.


	4. 13 - [Wanda/Steve] *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Sgt_Pepperony94:
> 
> "Steve x Wanda prompt 13 please. Rating is optional ;)"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooo you know that winky face means smut ;) ;) ;) I wrote this at work, inconspicuously fanning myself every now and again. Enjoy! <33

They weren’t fooling anyone.

Neither of them knew how to talk about it, what exactly to say, or what other complications would come because of it. So they were still sneaking around, still seeing each other behind closed doors, still acting professional with one another in the presence of their teammates. And Wanda could read minds, but she didn’t need to in order to know that none of them believed it. Even still, perhaps the bigger reason that they hadn’t said anything had to do with the fact that Steve _enjoyed_ sneaking around.

Stolen kisses, fingers brushing the skin below the hem of her dress underneath the table, whispered phrases about what they would do the next moment they could get alone — all of it drove him crazy, in the best of ways.

He doesn’t remember how it started or at what point specifically he realized that when he looked at her it wasn’t like a captain or a colleague, but something distinctly more, even if he couldn’t define it. And Wanda was okay with that, not putting a word or a title or pressure on either of them. They had enough going on, checking into sketchy motels under fake names and paying for everything in cash, avoiding cameras at intersections and buying groceries at odd hours of the night. That type of sneaking around was stressful and held dangerous repercussions. _This_ was exhilarating and foreign and altogether just what they needed.

Natasha and Bucky were sitting in the room attached to theirs, the television on and turned to the news, though both of them were somewhere else in their thoughts. The door between the two rooms was open, as they usually kept it, in case they needed to leave quickly or notify the others of something going on. There was one bed in each, which meant they rotated the unlucky person that needed to sleep on the floor or the rollaway cot or lumpy couch. They had long since done away with the pretense of the girls sharing a bed and the guys fighting amongst themselves for rights to the mattress. They all traded in a way that was fair, and… it meant that every so often, Steve and Wanda were assigned to the same room. It was sometime after the sun had gone down, and Sam, who was slated to sleep on their floor that night, had blessedly gone to do some laundry in the dingy facilities at the end of the hall.

As soon as the door closed, Wanda looked over towards Steve, seated on the small couch, already looking at her and away from the stack of papers in his lap that he was reading. She bit her lip, eyes straying to the open door between their rooms. They hadn’t been quite so brave as to fool around in the open, and Wanda didn’t think she’d be able to convince Steve of something that forward just yet, but maybe in time. Still, an idea was already forming in her mind. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announced to whoever was listening, pushing the covers off of her and heading towards the small hotel bathroom.

Steve responded with a quiet ‘alright’, looking back down towards his papers for a few moments, counting the seconds in his head. He heard the water turn on in the bathroom, and read the same sentence on the sheet four times, before he exaggerated a sigh and tossed the papers onto the small coffee table. “I’m going to run to the convenience store I saw on the corner. You guys want anything?” He asked, popping his head through the doorway.

Natasha barely looked at him, before back down to her tablet. “Nah, I’m okay.”

“Yeah, actually, see if they have any of those chocolate cakes with the squiggly white frosting on the top,” Bucky requested from his seat on the couch, and Natasha smirked, throwing him a look that Steve missed.

“Okay, yeah, I’ll look,” Steve promised, before turning to leave.

“Don’t forget your wallet,” Natasha called, not even looking up from her tablet.

Steve took a single step back, nodding his head. “Yeah, right… Obviously.” Bucky rolled his eyes, turning the volume on the television up a few notches while Natasha sighed, twisting one of her curls around her finger. Steve swiped his wallet and hotel key from the nearby TV stand, holding it up for the both of them to see. “Alright, I’ll be back in a bit.”

He walked towards the door, glancing over his shoulder once to make sure he wasn’t in their line of sight, pulling open the front door, and simultaneously pushing open the cracked bathroom door. He waited until the other door closed to mask the noise of him shutting and locking the bathroom one, and turned towards the room.

Wanda was waiting for him, pushing him up against the back of the closed door, her hands pulling him down to press her lips to his. The air in the room was humid, and the desperation in her kiss did nothing to cool the blood pulsing through his veins, and he sighed against her lips, moving her backwards until her hips hit the vanity. The contact disturbed some of the products on top of it, a few clattering into the bowl of the sink, and he chuckled low in his throat. “ **Shh, they’ll hear us** ,” his words brushed across the shell of her ear, and she huffed out a laugh.

She was still fully clothed, as she’d come to learn that he liked to pull them off of her, and Steve gripped the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over her head. Groaning when he saw that she wasn’t wearing a bra, he leaned forward again to kiss her, brushing his thumb over one of her nipples, delighting in the sounds the contact drew from her. If they had all the time in the world, he’d kiss every spot on her body and find out which ones made her scream his name the loudest, but he was unfortunately in a hurry.

Wanda pulled his shirt off, breaking contact only enough to toss it on the floor behind him, fingers already working the button and zipper on his jeans. He was just as eager, and she gasped when he lifted her to sit on the countertop in front of him, knocking over whatever toiletries had been left standing, but he didn’t comment this time. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her cotton shorts and her underwear, tugging them down and stepping out of the space between her knees so that she could kick them off. He stood there for a moment, eyes running up the length of her body and to her face, cheeks flushed and hair mussed, eyes half-lidded.

“What?” She asked, her voice light and breathless.

“Do you really need to ask?” Steve smirked, and she’d only managed the beginnings of a laugh before he was back again, kissing her soundly. Her hands pushed at the waistband of his jeans, tugging them downwards, and his boxers with them. His relief sounded in a quiet sigh as his erection was freed, though it turned quickly to a strangled moan when her fingers wrapped around the length of him. He gripped her hips, pulling her to the edge of the counter and tapping her thigh gently for her to wrap her legs around him. She didn’t want to release him, but he reached down and pulled her hand away, despite her petulant hum in response.

Wanda’s arms immediately encircled his neck when he pressed against her, muffling a whimper in the skin of his shoulder as he pushed forward in a few thrusts until she took him completely. He pressed one of his palms against the countertop, fingers curled over the edge of the sink, the other giving her hip a gentle squeeze. Steve had been asked more times than he wanted to count about whether the serum had enhanced him in _other_ ways, and although she would never admit it to another soul, Wanda could say that the answer was most definitely yes.

When her grip slackened and she lifted her face again, she gave the slightest of nods, and he pressed a tender kiss to her lips. His rhythm was slow at first, Wanda urging him quietly to pick up the pace, but he teased her for a little while longer, watching her eyes close and her brows pinch together in the way that they did while she was somewhere between frustration and ecstasy. She mumbled something in Sokovian, and although he’d learned a while back what it meant, he grinned at the sound of it. “What was that?”

She opened her eyes to glare at him, and he reached up with one hand to pinch her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and she gasped, closing them again. “Please, please…” she quickly told him what he wanted to hear, what she needed from him, and although he liked to pretend outwardly that he was the one in control of it all, she had him wrapped tightly around her finger.

He lowered both hands to her hips, pulling her against him with each thrust, softly hushing her when her whimpers or moans became a bit too loud. Wanda wasn’t good at staying quiet, Steve had learned, even when she was really trying, and he longed for the day where he could listen to her cry out with wild abandon. The thought in itself was enough to push him closer to the edge, and he reached between them, leaning in to capture her lips with his own at the same moment he brushed his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves between her legs. She would have cursed loudly, he could feel it in the back of his mind, where it was safe for her to be as loud as she wanted, and he let out his own quiet curse, moving his thumb a little faster against her. She was so close already, he could tell, he had learned her body in the same way that she had learned his, and though he wished that he could take things slow and not resort to how frantic their encounters were now, he also couldn’t complain.

Wanda gasped when the movements of his hips picked up, his free hand in the small of her back to hold her close to him with each thrust, and she nodded a little bit, afraid of opening her mouth, afraid of what would spill out when she wasn’t trying to hold everything back. His ministrations were too much and not enough all at once, and she rolled her hips against him in any effort to find that release that she sought, that he wanted to give her more than anything. Tightening her arms around him, she leaned forward to bury her face in his neck, and cried out against his skin when she came, body trembling around him, fingernails digging half-circles into the skin of his back, knowing any scratches would heal in more than adequate time to avoid questioning.

The feel of her, coming undone around him and panting her satisfaction into his neck sent him spilling over, moving both of his hands from her body to press flat against the surface of the bathroom vanity, a few suppressed groans managing to escape him as he let his head hang forward. He felt Wanda move just a little, wrapping her arms around him and holding him against her, fingers on one of her hands carding through his hair while Steve pressed his forehead to her shoulder.

Neither of them spoke for a few long moments, listening to the sounds of the water beating against the floor of the shower. He straightened up and she pulled her hands away, smiling up at him in a way that was absolutely breathtaking, and he grinned back.

—

Sam shifted the laundry basket to one hip while he dug his keycard out of his pocket, sliding it into the lock and pushing the door open. The door to the bathroom was closed and the room he was staying in was suspiciously quiet, and as he stepped further in, he groaned, setting down his basket of clothes at the foot of the bed.

“The shower? Again?” He leaned in the doorway of the adjoining room, and Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “Can I stay with you guys instead?”

“No can do, Sam, you know the rules. They’ll tell us when they’re ready to tell us,” Natasha told him, giving him a smirk. She heard the bathroom door click open, and frantically motioned for Sam to step into their room and out of Steve’s sight, the paratrooper rolling his eyes, but moving forward, regardless. They all waited in silence, listening as Steve quietly opened the front door and then made an over exaggerated amount of noise in closing it.

“Sorry, Buck, they didn’t have those cupcakes you were talkin’ about,” he said, nodding a greeting to Sam as he noticed him in the room.

“Damn. Well, did you bring us anything?” Bucky asked, and Natasha hid a snicker behind her tablet at the blank look on Steve’s face.

“No, I, uh… Figured you wouldn’t want somethin’ if they didn’t have what you asked for.”

Sam shook his head, moving past Steve and into the room to grab the laundry basket and heft it up and onto the bed. “Don’t feel bad about it, man. I know Wanda said earlier something about wanting ice cream, but with everything going on, it’s easy to forget.” He didn’t turn around from sorting out his t-shirts from his socks, but he could just picture the look on Steve’s face as he thought it through.

“I’ll go—back; I’ll go back, and see what they have.”

“Actually, I’m hungry, now. Can you also get me some Cheetos? The flamin’ hot kind,” Natasha asked, and Steve sighed with a nod.

“Yeah, and maybe a couple things of beef jerky,” Sam added. “Thanks, man.”

They three of them shared a laugh when Steve left, and went back to their respective tasks. Sam looked up from folding his laundry when Wanda stepped out of the bathroom, wet hair tied up in a bun and she looked around for a moment. She didn’t want to ask, Sam could tell, so he thought he’d at least save her that small thing. “Steve went to the store to get some snacks.”

Wanda nodded in understanding, climbing into her side of the bed and pulling the covers over her lower half, reaching out to pick up her book from the bedside table. “Must have worked up an appetite today.”


	5. 13, 91, 149 - [Wanda/Natasha]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Haruuuuu:
> 
> "Natasha X Wanda
> 
> 13 / 91 / 149
> 
> Thxxxx"
> 
> 13) “Shh, they’ll hear us.”  
> 91) “I love you, you asshole.”  
> 149) “Just breathe, okay?”

Wanda was about forty-five seconds away from having an absolute panic attack, and she wasn’t even the one who’d been shot.

She pressed the fabric of her jacket to the wound in Natasha’s side, her hands shaking, but keeping pressure there as best as she could, as she’d been instructed. Vaguely, she could hear Steve’s voice through the comm in her ear, telling her to keep calm and keep quiet. Wanda had taken care of the enemy that had done this, would have ripped him limb from limb if it weren’t for the other woman with her, reminding her that they needed to bring him in for questioning,  _ alive _ . So she only squeezed his windpipe until he lost consciousness, and then pulled several metal pipes from the walls with her scarlet and wrapped him tightly (maybe a little too tightly) in them.

But there were others, and she and Natasha were in the heart of the abandoned factory, and she was too afraid to leave for even a moment to see if their location was cleared.

Wanda reached up with her other hand to cup Natasha’s cheek when she saw her eyelids growing heavy. “Hey, hey—!”

“ **Shh, they’ll hear us** ,” Natasha mumbled, trying to shift a little bit and grimacing at the pain that blossomed in response.

“Don’t move, Talia.” Wanda scolded, even though the only thing in her voice was fear. “Stay with me, alright?”

Natasha smiled a little, reaching up to place her hand against Wanda’s, trying to bring her some sense of comfort. “I wish I’d never told you my real name. You only use it when I’m in trouble.”

“That is not true. I use it other times,” she argued, and Natasha’s smile widened as she thought about some of the other times. They were certainly far more pleasant than this, and what she wouldn’t give to go back to one of those moments, instead of being stuck in this one.

The redhead swallowed a lump in her throat, sighing a little bit as she blinked to clear her vision from the darkness trying to seep into her peripherals. She could see that Wanda was terrified, didn’t need to be trained in any mastery of espionage to tell that she was scared enough for the both of them. “Hey, I’m sorry about what I said.”  _ Or didn’t say _ .

Wanda shook her head quickly, lifting her hand from Natasha’s face to brush back one of her curls. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“Well, I mean… I kinda do,” Natasha argued, wincing a little and taking a few laboured breaths before she continued. “I’m not a… I’m not good at this sort of thing. They train you not to be. Just one more thing that could distract you and get you—“ She stopped, but she didn’t need to finish her thought for Wanda to know where she was going with it, and how it had proven true in this particular situation. The younger woman drew her eyebrows down, averting her gaze to focus on applying pressure to the gunshot wound.

“Wow, look at me, still being a giant asshole,” Nat grumbled, and Wanda couldn’t help but smile a little.

“Yeah, well. **I love you, you asshole** ,” she told the assassin, and Natasha gave her a slow smile, the kind that stretched across her face when she least expected it. She reached out to cup her hand against Wanda’s cheek, thumb brushing tenderly along her cheekbone. She couldn’t move, but Wanda could read her silent questioning, leaning down the rest of the way to press their lips together. The kiss was slow and gentle, and Natasha could feel in it how scared her girlfriend was.

Natasha broke away with a quiet hiss, hand shifting down to cover Wanda’s, where it was pressed against her abdomen. When she looked back up, she saw the panic starting to return in Wanda’s eyes, a streak of blood smudged across her jaw from where Natasha had touched her.

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay,” Wanda said, but sounded much more like she was trying to convince herself, hand shaking as she activated the comm system in her ear and asked Steve where the hell they were. Clint responded immediately, that they were still maybe ten minutes out, and she swallowed a lump in her throat. “You’re going to be okay,” she repeated quietly, but her eyes were far away and unseeing.

“Wanda, hey,” Natasha said quietly, blinking hard to focus her vision, reaching out to place her hand against Wanda’s cheek again. The young woman looked terrified, unshed tears brimming in her eyes, the color gone from her face. “ **Just breathe, okay** ?” She nodded along with her words, satisfied when Wanda nodded back, and took a deep, shuddering breath, focused on Natasha’s wound.

Nat had thought many times on the way that she would die, and she’d come to terms with it in many situations: the last time being in Sokovia – back when she didn’t trust either of the Maximoff twins, when Wanda had shown Natasha her demons, when she was okay with death.  _ There are worse ways to go _ , she’d told Steve, and Natasha looked up at Wanda, tear-stricken and afraid, as emotive as she’d always been, even when Natasha wasn’t.

Yeah, this was worse.

“Багрец,” Natasha called her,  _ scarlet, _ and Wanda turned her gaze back down to her partner’s face. “I love you, too, you know.”

Wanda looked down at her with wide eyes. “You do?”

“’Course I do,” Natasha told her, the corner of her mouth quirked upwards. “It would be impossible not to. Don’t know how you put up with me out of everybody. Just wish things were different—”

“Stop,” Wanda implored her quietly, shaking her head. Natasha’s breathing was becoming shallow, even she could tell, the effort with which it took to keep oxygen in her lungs become a chore, and Steve’s voice chirped in their ear. “You can make it, just seven minutes.” And Natasha didn’t want to break her heart and tell her that was only half the battle. There were no doctors on their team, no blood transfusions or pain medication that Steve and the others would be bringing. It only meant that Wanda wouldn’t be alone for long.

“You’ll be okay,” Natasha promised, and Wanda buried her face into the crook of Natasha’s neck, quiet sobs shaking her shoulders. Nat lifted her hand and curled her fingers into Wanda’s hair at the nape of her neck, holding her there, turning her head with some effort to press her lips to the side of Wanda’s head, closing her eyes. “I promise you’ll be okay.”

“Don’t go,” Wanda begged her, and Natasha couldn’t feel the heat of her breath on her neck, even though the words were whispered there. “Please don’t go.”

“It’s okay,” Natasha murmured, and try as she might, she was just so  _ tired _ . “Love you.”

Wanda sobbed outright, clinging to Natasha, and she didn’t care if they were found, she didn’t care if one of their bullets killed her, too. She welcomed it, mumbling declarations of love and adoration, promises of the future, into Natasha’s hair, that would never come true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of these days these two are gonna get a happy ending but WOOPS not today!


	6. 130, 131, 136, 28, 86, 84 - [Wanda/Bucky]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For bee:
> 
> "Winterwitch AU. 130/131/136/28/86/84 I've to admit that Wanda and Bucky mean angst and hurt each other so ..  
> P.S: Sorry if this is too much, I'll be happy with anything! ♡"
> 
> 130) “What the hell are you doing here?! I told you I never wanted to see you again!”  
> 131) “Are you drunk?”  
> 136) “Don’t say you love me.”  
> 28) “Your eyes are red… Were you crying?”  
> 86) “I wish I could hate you.”  
> 84) “Don’t fucking touch me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fuck me up with some more angsty prompts, fam, I am here for thisssss.

Steve had good intentions, he really did. He didn’t know what was going on with Bucky, not specifically, but suggested a poker night with just the guys; Steve might not have known exactly what had put Bucky in such a terrible mood, but he had a sneaking suspicion it was related to the young Sokovian girl he hadn’t seen around lately. So Steve specified no girls, to save his friend the embarrassment of showing up alone or not showing up at all.

The night hadn’t gone precisely to plan, because the lack of women in the room meant they were the topic of conversation. Tony told them he was going to propose to Pepper, Sam asked Steve when he and Natasha were finally going to admit their feelings for one another, and then their eyes at turned to Bucky. And he’d merely tossed back the rest of his glass of whiskey and pointed out that it was Sam’s turn to deal.

They’d left not too long after, calling cabs or significant others or walking the short distance to their own apartments, and left Bucky alone with his damn thoughts. And of course, they were all of _ her _ .

The way she rolled her eyes at one of his stupid jokes, even though she couldn’t hide her smile, or the time she’d had a bit too much to drink and he’d carried her on his back to her apartment, where he’d slept on the couch. Most recently, however, was the look on her face just before he’d walked away. And even with his arm thrown over his eyes in the dark of his apartment, he couldn’t forget it.

Bucky thought maybe he’d imagined the knock at the door, but his feet were already taking him, stumbling, towards it. He fumbled with the chain for a moment, for far too long, before he finally unlatched it and pulled the door open, and he was face to face with his demons. Neither of them spoke for several seconds, and just as Wanda parted her lips, he gripped the edge of the door. “ **What the hell are you doing here** ?” He pushed it shut, but she was quicker, sticking her foot into the small space between the door and the jamb. She winced just enough that he let up on the pressure, but not so much so that she could force her way inside.

“I just wanted to talk—“

“ **I told you I never wanted to see you again** !” And there was that look again, that pained expression on her face that he wanted to kiss away, to reach up and smooth out the lines of worry on her forehead, but he’d already made up his mind.

“ **Are you drunk** ?” Wanda asked quietly, and Bucky leaned away from the door for a moment to scoff. While his guard was down, she pushed his door open, sending Bucky staggering back a step, and she slipped through the opening.

“Hey, wha—? I told you not to come in here.” He was stunned for a moment, too surprised to formulate an intelligent sentence, though he supposed the whiskey didn’t help.

Wanda sighed; there was a smart a smart response on her tongue, something that normally slipped so easily into conversation between them, but it wasn’t the time and things weren’t the same. He was staring at her, arms crossed over his chest, her eyes downcast towards the floor.

“I just want to understand. I don’t know what I did—“

“You didn’t  _ do _ anything, Wanda.” Bucky told her, his tone exasperated, because what didn’t she understand? Why didn’t she see that he wasn’t good for her?

“Then I don’t get it… I thought things were going well, and I thought you felt the same; I thought that you knew that I lo—“

“ **_Don’t_ ** **say you love me** ,” he begged of her, before he really and truly looked at her. They’d never said it to one another, they never felt the need to. Things were easy and fun and they didn’t need to complicate things with heavy feelings or making promises Bucky knew he couldn’t keep. “Just don’t.”  _ Don’t make this any harder, don’t keep coming back to me, don’t make me think about how much of a goddamn fuck-up I am for letting it get this far. _

She stepped closer to him, almost reached out for his hand, but she stopped herself. Even in his somewhat drunken haze, he could tell she was barely holding on to the edges of her composure, and he swallowed a lump in his throat. “ **Your eyes are red** ...” He mumbled, watching as her gaze flickered to his, and then away, at anything but him. “ **Were you crying** ?” There was a sharp pain in the center of his chest, to know that he was still hurting her. But at least it meant that he’d made the right decision.

Wanda swiped at her eyes with the pads of her fingers, turning away from him and absentmindedly walking a few aimless steps towards his kitchen. They were both quiet for a few moments, and Bucky almost missed her next words, only catching them because she turned around towards him as she spoke. “I deserve to know what’s going on, just please give me at least that much respect. If there’s somebody else, you can, you know, just tell me,” she spoke it nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders, even though Bucky knew her well enough that it was just a front.

“There’s nobody else,” he sighed, but he could see that didn’t help her understand, not from the way she was looking at him.

“Then what? What did I do to make you hate me like this?”

Bucky laughed, sardonic and lacking any sort of mirth. “ **I wish I could hate you** .” He watched her, struggling with something, with everything about this situation, but he couldn’t let her know that he was struggling, too. It would be better this way, and one day she’d look back and thank him.

But today she couldn’t, and she closed the distance between them before he could step back, reaching out to cup his face in her hands. He jerked away, pushing her palms away from him. “ **Don’t fucking touch me** !” He hissed, and then he made the mistake of looking up at her. Tears were welling in her eyes, holding her hands close to her chest, having pulled them back to herself as if he scorched her, and he knew he had.

But  _ god _ , he hated that look on her face, and he hated that he had put it there. One day she’d thank him,  _ one day _ , he swore to himself, swallowing a lump in his throat. “I’m not good for you, Wanda,” he explained, because she was right, she deserved at least that much.

Wanda lifted her eyes to his face again, tears still there, but her brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

“Wanda, I’ve  _ killed _ people,” he snapped, lifting his hands and pushing them through his hair, half-turning towards the rest of his apartment, just so that he didn’t have to look at her. They had never talked about it, but she knew he was in the military, that he was a combat veteran whose hands were soaked with blood.

“I don’t care—”

Bucky sighed, harsh and loud, turning back towards her, reaching out to grasp her arms in his hands, and he didn’t understand why she didn’t even flinch. “You don’t get it, Wanda. Sometimes I see them, the faces of the people that I killed, that I  _ murdered _ . Some of them were civilians, and they didn’t deserve it; others were people who deserved a slower death, who needed to be stopped before they tortured somebody else.” Her eyes never left his face, and he saw the recognition there, quick and fleeting. She’d seen his scars, she never asked about them, but they were impossible to miss. No, Wanda pretended they weren’t there at all, and he didn’t fucking  _ get it _ . “Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and I swear to God I see them, and I pull my revolver out of my bedside drawer, ready to put a bullet in a memory,” the heat had leaked from his voice, but his hands still stayed, holding her there, considering for a moment if he needed to shake some sense into her. “Don’t you see it, Wanda? I can’t love you the way that you deserve.”

She stared up at him, eyes searching his face for something, and he didn’t know what she found there, didn’t know at all what she saw in him. “You’re afraid that you will hurt me,” she said slowly, as if she finally understood what he was saying.

“Wanda, I  _ will _ . That’s all I know how to do,” Bucky told her, his gaze unwavering as he tried to get her to  _ see _ .

But she was blind to it, and she shook her head. “No, it isn’t.  _ Listen _ to me,” she said forcefully when he opened his mouth to interject. “Both of us have done things that we aren’t proud of, and I’m not here to compare demons with you. James, I don’t  _ care _ what you did, or what you were made to do.” Wanda reached up again, no hesitation in her movements, placing a hand on either side of his jaw, making it so that he could only look at her. “War changes people, it forces them to become someone or something they’re not, just to survive.” And Bucky remembers when she told him where she was from, remembers how she almost doesn’t want to say, but he didn’t tell her that he  _ knew _ , that he’d seen countries like Sokovia and broken people like her, even if it’s only in the dark hours of the morning where she lets herself feel it.

Bucky shook his head, this conversation far too sobering for his whiskey-laced thoughts. “How can you be so sure?”

“Because I trust you,” Wanda ducked her head a little to catch his gaze, from where it had roamed without purpose as he tried to make sense of this all. “And because I love you,” she told him firmly, not shying away from it or from him. “And—” She licked her lips, and his traitorous eyes flickered there, before he looked up to her face again. “And I think that you love me, and that scares you.”

He could only stare at her, and she stayed there, unwavering. Bucky doesn’t know how much time passed, but Wanda never pulled away from him. “It’s terrifying,” he mumbled, and Wanda smiled, wide, for some reason unknown to him.

“That’s okay, it’s okay to be afraid of that. If I can be honest with you, I was scared out of my mind coming over here.”

Bucky frowned, his mind not processing on all cylinders, so he dumbly asked, “Why?”

Wanda half-laughed, half-sighed, but she still had that smile on her face. “Because it’s vulnerable, taking the chance to tell someone you love them, when you don’t know what they’ll say or how they feel. You’re opening yourself up for the other person to hurt you, but I think that’s better than not trying at all.”

Maybe it was the whiskey or the lack of sleep or a thousand other things Bucky wanted to blame it on, but his shoulders fell, and he pulled her into his arms. Wanda shifted so that her own arms are around his neck, and Bucky buried his face in her hair with a sigh. “You’re too good for me,” he murmurs into her shoulder, and he thinks he can feel her smile.

“No, I’m not,” she whispers back, keeping her voice low, because she doesn’t want to break whatever this is. “But I do think I’m good for you.” His arms tighten around her, and that night there are no nightmares and no shadows, just the two of them. And she’s right.


	7. 45, 55 - [Wanda/Bucky]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For LilleyBelle:
> 
> 45) "This isn't what it looks like."  
> 55) "This is... exactly what it looks like."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These two give me life! Here's a fun-sized little tidbit (an actual drabble, I know, I know) for you all, and a quick thanks for all of the feedback <3 Comments mean the world to me, so it's great to know y'all are enjoying it!

In retrospect, neither of them were trying very hard to hide it, and neither of them should have been that surprised when Natasha walked in on them in the kitchen.

There was a tablet sat on a wooden stand on the countertop, a recipe for something that smelled of garlic and thyme written there for the both of them to read. Wanda had a knife in her hand, slicing a small onion on the cutting board in front of her, and Bucky was almost curled entirely around her. He stood behind her, a hand on the countertop on either side of her, murmuring something in her ear that Natasha didn’t catch, but that made Wanda  _ glggle _ .

It was weird, the sound so absolutely foreign coming from such a broken little thing, but the Black Widow supposed even though it was  _ weird _ , it was a hell of a lot better than how closed off and silent the Sokovian had been after the death of her brother, after Lagos, after the Raft. Even if it  _ was _ the Winter Soldier who was eliciting such a reaction. Rolling her eyes when Wanda laughed again at whatever idiotic joke Bucky was telling her, Natasha pulled open the fridge to retrieve a bottle of water, and caught the two of them separating in the corner of her eye. She wanted to scold them for being so wrapped up in one another that they were unaware of their surroundings, but she knew they were safe for the time being, living in Wakanda and well away from the public eye.

“ **This isn’t what it looks like** ,” Bucky blurted, and Wanda turned to look up at him, for a moment so brief that Natasha thought the man had missed it, but the instant Wanda turned back towards the cutting board to resume her work, his gaze followed.

Natasha merely leaned against the front of the fridge, twisting the cap off of her bottle and enjoying the way Bucky seemed to struggle with what to say. She probably should have turned to walk away and leave them to whatever awkwardness was now left in her wake, but she had to admit that she was curious about what was going to happen. That, and if the two lovestruck fools would just admit it to one another, Natasha would be a hundred dollars richer.

It was only four or five seconds of tense semi-silence, the sound of Wanda chopping the only noise in the immediate area, but Natasha still watched Bucky flounder for those moments, opening his mouth once, before clenching his jaw. He tried again.

“ **This is… exactly what it looks like** ,” he finally said, and although his voice was low in volume, it didn’t waver. Bucky kept his gaze on Wanda’s face when she paused in her work, turning to look up at him, as if she couldn’t allow herself to believe she’d actually heard him correctly. They stayed like that for a few seconds, eyes locked on one another, until Bucky tentatively reached out and brushed his fingers along the skin of her forearm, hesitant, like Natasha hadn’t just caught the both of them red-handed.

The redhead rolled her eyes again, pushing off of the fridge, and her movement seemed to remind them that she was still there. “Okay. Well, cool,” was all that she felt needed to be said, because it wasn’t as big of a deal to her as either of them were making it. “If you see Sam, tell him he lost the bet and he owes me, and I intend to collect.” She pointed the capped end of her bottle at the two of them, and although Bucky had a puzzled expression on his face, Wanda just nodded with a small smile. “And your water is about to boil over.”

Natasha smirked to herself as she heard Wanda curse in her native tongue, while Bucky reached out to remove the pot from the burner. With a satisfied nod of her head, Natasha left them to their own little world, and headed back towards the training rooms, where Steve was waiting for her.  _ Another successful mission _ , she thought to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow hello, yes, i am still alive. i had a crazy few weeks with school, vacation, more school, and work. but now i'm done with classes and regrettably back in my home where i can't see mountains everyday (please visit Washington state if you ever get the chance). i intend to get back into the swing of things, which also includessss maybe a new fic i'm working on.


	8. 10, 11, 55 - [Natasha/Wanda]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo it's been awhile! Not as long as it could have been, but enough that I apologize! Life sometimes just has a way of sucker-punching you in the gut right when you least expect it, doesn't it? But, here's 3 little drabbles to make it up to you <3 Love you all for the fantastic support, it's what keeps me chugging along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Jp: “Ahhh here I am again 10,11,55”
> 
> 10) "Why are you giving me such a hard time about this?”  
> 11) "Look into my eyes, what do you see?”  
> 55) “This is… exactly what it looks like.”

Natasha heaved a sigh, closing the two halves of her suitcase and tugging the zipper around its perimeter. “ **Why are you giving me such a hard time about this** ?” She finished her task and turned towards her girlfriend, hands immediately on her hips. “Because it’s Bucky?”

Wanda bristled, crossing her arms over her chest, an indignant look on her face. “Because you’re going halfway around the world on an assignment that could last weeks, and I’ll hardly get to talk to you.” But Natasha quirked one delicate brow, and that was always Wanda’s undoing. “And because you slept with him,” she breathed out, her shoulders deflating as she did.

Natasha sighed again, this time far softer and more understanding than annoyed, letting her arms drop to her sides as she approached the other woman. She reached out and slid her hands around Wanda’s hips, clasping her fingers together loosely, and resting them against the small of Wanda’s back. “It meant nothing, I promise. It was a hazard of the job at the time, and it was long before I knew what a pretty girl I’d find someday — after she tried to kill me, of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she teased, dipping her chin a little in an attempt to catch Wanda’s gaze where it trailed along the neckline of her shirt.

“I know,” she mumbled, lifting a hand from where it had rested against Natasha’s bicep to toy with the thin gold chain of the assassin’s necklace, a present from her girlfriend that she rarely took off. “I just wonder if maybe—”

“Wanda, babe,” Natasha unclasped her hands, keeping one resting against her girlfriend’s hip, lifting the other to place two fingers underneath Wanda’s chin and lift it upwards to face her. “ **Look into my eyes; what do you see** ?” She asked, and watched as the other woman complied, searching her gaze for something. “I’ll tell you what I see,” she supplemented, when her girlfriend didn’t answer quickly enough. “I see a beautiful woman who shouldn’t be worried in the least about any other person in the world stealing away my attention. Who pursued who, after all?” Wanda gave her a small smile, the kind that softened her features and made Natasha weak in the knees in the best of ways.

“If by pursue you mean that you rode my ass in the training rooms and made me think that you hated me, then sure.” Wanda quipped, but her gaze held amusement.

“You know I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

Wanda leaned her head back to laugh, and the tension in her posture melted away. When she shifted her gaze back towards Natasha again, she moved her hands from resting against Nat’s forearms to wrap loosely around her neck, instead. “I see a woman who makes me happier than I ever thought I could be. I see someone who makes me laugh, and who looks at me like I’m the only person in the world.”

“See?” Nat responded, the smirk ever-present on her lips. “I told you you’ve got nothing to worry about.  **This is… exactly what it looks like** . I’m crazy about you, and you know that.”

Wanda shifted her gaze somewhere to her left with an abashed smile. “I know, I just love to hear you say it,” she mused, and Natasha rolled her eyes, having already expected that answer. “Just come home to me, okay?”

The spy leaned in to kiss her, before pulling away to meet Wanda’s gaze. “I always do.”


	9. 123, 129, 46 - [Natasha/Wanda]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo it's been awhile! Not as long as it could have been, but enough that I apologize! Life sometimes just has a way of sucker-punching you in the gut right when you least expect it, doesn't it? But, here's 3 little drabbles to make it up to you <3 Love you all for the fantastic support, it's what keeps me chugging along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For DreaWasHere: “ScarletWidow 123,129, 46”
> 
> 123) “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”  
> 129) “I’m tired of being your secret.”  
> 46) “I really wish you’d told me your mother was in town.”

Natasha had always been exceedingly perceptive, perhaps sometimes too much for her own good. So when she opened the door to her girlfriend’s apartment, and found Wanda on the floor of the kitchen scrubbing at the grout with a toothbrush, she immediately knew it was going to be a  _ day _ .

“Hey, what did that toothbrush ever do to you?” She asked, shifting inside and setting her bag down by the door, slipping out of her jacket to hang it over the back of one of the chairs at the table.

Wanda looked up from where she was still kneeling on the tile, and pointed a finger towards the offending article of clothing. “Coat closet,” was all that she said, before resuming her work, spraying the grout with some sort of cleaner and attacking it again.  _ Maybe she’s sprayed too many chemicals while cleaning and she’s losing it a little _ , Natasha mused, though she didn’t voice her thoughts out loud, and instead sighed rather loudly and retrieved her coat to hang in the closet just inside the front door, where she saw a row of other coats and jackets hung neatly and not strewn about the apartment like usual.

“Alright, Maximoff, what’s going on? You’re freaking me out.”

She heard her girlfriend sigh, and turned around to see Wanda sitting back on her knees, fiddling with a dirty rag that she must have grabbed to clean up. Natasha was quiet while she waited for a response, knowing that neither of them were very receptive to prying. Wanda twisted the washcloth between her hands, letting out another heavy exhale, before seemingly straightening her spine and lifting her chin to lock eyes with Natasha.

“ **I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified** .”

Natasha wasn’t sure what she had been expecting, but of all the things she thought she’d hear out of Wanda’s mouth, this one completely caught her off guard. Particularly the ‘L’ word. And the way that Wanda was still staring at her, waiting for some sort of response, but Natasha was hardly remembering how to breathe, let alone form a sentence. After a moment, her body seemed to move on auto-pilot, and she scooped up her bag from the floor. She only intended to place it somewhere else or to just hold it to fiddle with the clasp or  _ something _ , but Wanda seemed to take it as a sign Natasha was trying to leave.

She leapt up from the floor, putting herself halfway between her girlfriend and the door. “I know we talked about this,” she was in a rush to say, that damned rag still twisting between her fingers. “It was just supposed to be fun and no strings attached and we promised it wouldn’t end up like this. But it’s different, now. For me, and… I think for you, too.”

It  _ is _ different, and that’s a big part of the reason that Natasha wanted to avoid this conversation altogether, putting her bag down on the kitchen counter and stepping into the living room, running her hands through her hair. Wanda followed, still keeping a bit of distance between them. “ **I’m tired of being your secret,** Nat.”

Natasha sighed, stepping closer and reaching out to take the rag from Wanda’s hands and toss it onto the countertop behind them. “You aren’t a secret, Wanda.”

She stepped away, sighing as she crossed her arms over her chest. “Which is why you tell people that I am just your friend? Why you won’t kiss me in public or let me take you out for your birthday.” For being as unsure of herself as she is, Wanda was holding her gaze steady, and Natasha shifted only the slightest under her watch, pursing her lips. “Pietro is here for the weekend, and I had hoped maybe you would finally get to meet him.”

“ **I really wish you’d told me your** **_mother_ ** **was in town,** ” Natasha rolled her eyes, an automatic response and an attempt at humor to try and deflect any sort of anxiety she was feeling at the thought of meeting Wanda’s family.

But it was clearly the wrong thing to say, the wrong moment for sarcasm, and Wanda squared her jaw in response. She grabbed Natasha’s bag from the countertop and thrust it into the redhead’s hands before she had another moment to think about it, trying to usher her back towards the door. “Look, forget about it. Please, just forget I said anything, okay?”

“No,” Natasha twisted around with a sigh, reaching out to grasp Wanda’s bicep in one of her hands, letting her bag dangle aimlessly in her other. She tried and failed to find the right words, attempted to sort through her thoughts to make any sort of sense, and Wanda waited patiently, even though she looked like whatever Natasha said would crush her. “No,” she repeated, inhaling a sharp breath. “You’re right. It is. Different,” she added the last bit, just in case Wanda didn’t already know.

From the way she stared at Natasha with wide eyes, she may not have known, or maybe hadn’t given herself the opportunity to hope for that. “It is?”

The corner of Natasha’s mouth quirked upwards in a smirk, and she tossed her bag onto the floor near their feet. She’d put it in the damn coat closet, later. “It’s different. For you and for me,” she swallowed her apprehension, reaching out to rest her arms around Wanda’s shoulders, hand loosely threading through the brown locks at the back of her neck. “I’m not the best at… this. The _real_ this. The… maybe being in love with you _this._  

Wanda wanted to grin, Natasha could see it in her eyes, in the way she tried to press her lips together to stop it. “ _ Maybe _ being in love with me?”

Natasha groaned, rolling her head away a little bit, before bringing it back straight to meet Wanda’s eyes. “I do. I think I’m in love with you, too.” She watched as Wanda processed this bit of information, and the battle she fought to restrain her happiness at the admission fell away, the grin bright on the young Sokovian’s face. “And I’ll meet your brother tonight and hope that he doesn’t hate me.”

Wanda laughed, wrapping her arms around Natasha’s waist and pulling her close, capturing her lips in a kiss that spoke far more than their words ever could. “He’s going to love you,” she promised, before releasing her girlfriend and turning back to the kitchen, grabbing the washcloth from the counter and resume her work on the tile below her feet.

Pietro. Wanda’s brother. Natasha was going to be meeting the infamous  _ Pietro _ , the over-protective, cocky and hot-headed brother. She looked from Wanda back towards the rest of the room, feeling an unfamiliar sense of nervousness start to settle in at that thought, and an itch to relieve it somehow. “Did you already clean the bathroom?”


	10. 1, 4, 14 - [Wanda/Steve]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soooo it's been awhile! Not as long as it could have been, but enough that I apologize! Life sometimes just has a way of sucker-punching you in the gut right when you least expect it, doesn't it? But, here's 3 little drabbles to make it up to you <3 Love you all for the fantastic support, it's what keeps me chugging along!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Sgt_Pepperony: “Okay, next prompt: Another Steve x Wanda 1, 4, 14 please.”
> 
> 1) “Here, let me see.”  
> 4) “Will you just hold still?”  
> 14) “It doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches…”

The hiss that left Steve’s lips caught Wanda’s attention immediately, and her head jerked up from where she’d been reading some trashy article in a magazine they’d picked up at a corner store. “What happened?” She was already pushing herself off of the stool and padding barefoot around the peninsula and into the kitchen. Steve was holding one hand in the palm of the other, and turning away from her.

“It’s nothing, it’s okay,” he assured her, even though he knew she way too stubborn to let it drop that easily.

She rolled her eyes and moved around to his other side, trying to pry his hands apart. “ **Here, let me see,** ” she told him firmly, though not at all unkind, as she finally managed to convince him to show her what had happened. She inhaled sharply at the sight of the cut and the blood seeping out of the wound, turning to grab a handful of paper towels from the roll next to the sink.

“Wanda, it’s fine, don’t worry—“

She turned back from the counter with a mess of paper towels, wrapping them and her hand around the wound on his finger. Steve sighed, trying to keep the corners of his lips from quirking upwards in a smile, knowing it wasn’t the right moment. Still, he found it adorable that she was concerned, and let her worry over him for only a moment more before pulling his hand out of hers. “ **Will you just hold still** ?” She scolded, reaching out to take his hand again, but he pulled it back.

“Seriously, it will be fine,” he assured her, shifting a little bit so he could turn on the faucet and run his hand under it briefly, before turning to show it to her. “See?”

She pulled it towards her for closer inspection, and found the skin was already starting to knit itself together, like the injury had happened days ago and not in the last few seconds. “Well… I guess  **it doesn’t look like you’ll need stitches** …” Wanda gave him a somewhat sheepish smile, and released his hand. “I forgot about the whole ‘advanced healing’ thing.”

“Don’t fret about it. It’s cute that you were worried,” Steve told her, catching the slight blush that dusted her cheeks before he grabbed the offending knife and placed it in the sink, taking another one out of the drawer to finish cooking their dinner.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her fiddling with the buttons of her shirt—of  _ his _ shirt. “What were you doing, anyway? You’re not normally very clumsy.”

Steve felt the tips of his ears start to burn, and he had a feeling Wanda already knew, but wanted him to say it. “I was distracted,” he mumbled, and looked up to find Wanda pursing her lips together in an attempt not to grin at him. He resumed chopping the green onions that he’d been cutting prior to the incident, but Wanda didn’t move from her spot, leaning against the counter by his side. He wasn’t the one that could read minds, but he could guess well enough what she was thinking. “Yes,” he finally admitted with a quiet sigh, “by you.” He leaned away from the cutting board to look down at her and the smug smile she wore.

“I’m flattered,” Wanda told him, stretching up on her toes to press a quick kiss to his lips, before she retreated back to her seat on the other side of the countertop. “But also really hungry.”


	11. 66, 73 - [Bucky/Wanda] *

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Witchy: “Winterwitch 66/73”
> 
> 66) “I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here.”  
> 73) “If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get back into the swing of things~ These two are absolutely helping <3
> 
> Also tried to write in present tense instead of past tense, let me know if you abhor it (gently lol)

He knows that he is staring at her, and he also knows that she is well aware of the fact. In the heat of the room, filled with all of their friends and colleagues, she raises her near-empty drink and presses the cool glass against her neck. She’s positioned herself to stand next to her brother, facing the Bartons, so that every so often her eyes slide to the empty space over Clint’s shoulder and hold his gaze for a moment, before returning to their conversation.

It’s maddening, and Wanda knew it.

Bucky is half-listening to a story that Rhodey is telling, about some mission he’d gone on and how he’d successfully captured the weapons smugglers by outsmarting them. He is thankful that Vision is standing in their small group, asking questions to keep the conversation going out of pure curiosity, so that Bucky didn’t have to. He watches as Wanda downs the rest of the liquid in her glass, and then excuses herself from the conversation to head towards the bar, purposefully avoiding eye contact.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he mumbles, his departure going mostly unnoticed by the others, who didn’t even question the fact that no matter how many glasses of whiskey he drank, it did nothing for him.

Wanda is standing at the bar, resting her forearms against the edge of it, bent over a little, thanks to the added height of the heels she’s wearing. Bucky’s eyes travel up her legs as he approaches, to where the hem of her skirt brushes against the backs of her thighs, and he feels his throat tighten a little bit. She pushes her glass across the bartop and asks for another of whatever she was drinking, and doesn’t even acknowledge him when he comes up next to her.

“Make it two,” he pushes his own glass across the counter, and rests his side against it while the bartender moves away from them to fulfill their orders. Wanda has one of the flimsy cardboard coasters in her hands, idly flipping it over and back. Bucky leans forward to reach out and grab a coaster of his own from near the other edge of the countertop, brushing his shoulder against hers as he does so. “ **I want to hike up your skirt and take you right here** ,” he rumbles, just loud enough for her to hear it.

A smile pulls across her lips, her eyes shifting to look up at him for only a moment, before straightening up a little bit as the bartender returns with their drinks, placing them on the coasters and then heading off to serve someone else. Wanda turns with her drink in hand, taking a small sip through the tiny straw in the glass, resting her back against the bar and her elbows on the edge of it. “ **If you want to get me naked, you’ll have to convince me it’ll be worth my time,** ” she responds, voice smooth and steady, even though he can almost feel the way her heart is pounding in her chest. She wants this as badly as he does.

“I’m almost certain from the way you screamed my name last night, that you already know it will be worth it,” Bucky tells her, and watches as she raises her glass to take a sip of whiskey in an attempt to hide the smile he knows is there. “And this morning, too.”

And that’s how they wind up here, in the first room they could find in the Avenger’s compound that isn’t locked (it is, now), an office of some sort that was too small to be Tony’s and too messy to be Steve’s. But Bucky doesn’t care whose desk it is when he lifts Wanda effortlessly on top of it, pushing away a stack of papers and folders, swallowing her gasp with his lips as he pulls himself closer to stand between her legs. One of them curls around his hips and draws him even nearer, a growl low in his throat when he presses against her core. Her hands fumble with the buttons of his dress shirt, and she gets impatient, deciding on his belt instead. She unbuckles it and manages to unbutton his pants on the first try, but he stretches out his hand and grasps her wrist before she can reach him.

Wanda pulls her mouth away from his with a frustrated whine, and his lips part to offer some snarky comment, to ask if it’s worth her time, but she’s quicker. “I need you,” she breathes, raw and desperate, and Bucky forgets what he was going to say and moves instead.

He pulls her from the edge of the desk and turns her around, keeping a grasp on her waist as he can tell she’s already weak in the knees. Wanda automatically places her palms against the surface of the desk to steady herself, and when he’s sure she’s stable, he pushes up the skirt of her dress to bunch at her ribcage. He hooks his thumbs in the waistband of her underwear, a lacy red thong that he remembers telling her how much he liked them, and tugs them down to her knees, but no further.

Bucky’s having a difficult time restraining himself, but the last thing he wants to do is hurt her beyond a pleasurable pain. When two fingers of his flesh and blood hand tease her entrance, he’s pleased to find that she’s already wet with her arousal. She whimpers at the contact, trying to push her hips back towards him, but his vibranium hand at the small of her back holds her in place.

“James,” she strangles out, her voice tight with the wanton frustration she’s feeling and his name is a request, a plea for  _ more _ , and he’s happy to give it to her. He fiddles with the zipper of his pants and pushes the waistband of them and his boxers down just enough, a relieved exhale on his lips when he's free of the constraining clothing. He fishes a condom out of his back pocket, and it takes two times to try and tear the flimsy foil package with shaking fingers, rolling the latex into place.

She leans forward on her forearms and grips the other edge of the desk as he pushes forward in one, two, three thrusts until his hips are flush against her. He pauses for a moment to gain his bearings, reaching out to place his hand on the back of hers, threading their fingers together and pressing his lips the exposed skin just to the left of the strap of her dress. “Please,” she begs of him quietly, moving her free arm across the length of the desk and resting her forehead against it.

He leans away, and Bucky keeps his one hand over hers, and with the other, cautious of the strength he has, he curls vibranium fingers around the back of her neck for purchase. With each thrust, he pulls her back towards him until she's crying out—sometimes his name, other times her need for  _ more, _ and each one of them draws him closer to her, physically and in some other way they don’t talk about, but his cloudy mind can't focus on those thoughts.

Wanda trembles underneath him, and her panted words come more desperately. She rolls her wrist and clasps his hand against hers, and it's a little awkward of a grasp, but she's clinging to him like without it she'll be completely lost. With another gasp of his name, her back arches against him and her nails dig gouges into the soft wood. Her head is turned to the side, and he can see her brow furrowed, eyes screwed shut, and her lips parted in a silent cry. One of her legs is shaking and she lifts her foot a little off of the ground, and he growls at the intensity she feels when she loses herself to him. It’s enough to push him to his own release in only a few seconds.

Bucky pitches forward, removing his hand from her neck just in time to catch himself from completely collapsing on top of her. His grip splinters the wood a little, and he presses his forehead against her shoulder blade while he catches his breath. Wanda pulls his hand close and presses her lips against his palm, patient while he figures out how to stand, again, and he kisses the flushed skin of her neck before he pulls away. He only feels a little guilty when he tosses the rubber in the nearby trash can, adjusting himself and fastening his belt again while Wanda rights herself and tugs up her panties underneath her dress. She’s still a little unsteady on her feet, particularly in heels, and leans back against the desk for a moment just to breathe.

She’s watching him under dark lashes, a ghost of a smile on her lips, and Bucky smirks at the sight of it. “What?” He asks, buttoning up his shirt and tucking it back into his pants, smoothing out some of the wrinkles. “Was it worth your time?”

“I’m not sure,” she says with a slow shrug of one shoulder, turning her cheek into the action while she seems to mull over what to say. “I mean, you didn’t get me naked.”

Bucky steps closer, and she moves only her eyes to follow him. He fastens one of his cuffs that had somehow come undone during the exchange, and then lifts a hand to tilt her chin upwards so he can see her beautiful face. “It’s only just past ten. I’ve got plenty of night left, doll.”


End file.
